Chapter 3 - Page 2

"I never
had a chance till now; I never knew my privileges. Give me an
American!" And Mrs. Ruck indulged in a little laugh.

"Well, I must say there are some things I like over here," said Miss
Sophy, with courage. And indeed I could see that she was a young
woman of great decision.

"You like the shops--that's what you like," her father affirmed.

The young lady addressed herself to me, without heeding this remark.
"I suppose you feel quite at home here."

"Oh, he likes it; he has got used to the life!" exclaimed Mr. Ruck.

"I wish you'd teach Mr. Ruck," said his wife. "It seems as if he
couldn't get used to anything."

"I'm used to you, my dear," the husband retorted, giving me a
humorous look.

"He's intensely restless," continued Mrs. Ruck.

"That's what made me want to come to a pension. I thought he would
settle down more."

"I don't think I AM used to you, after all," said her husband.

In view of a possible exchange of conjugal repartee I took refuge in
conversation with Miss Ruck, who seemed perfectly able to play her
part in any colloquy. I learned from this young lady that, with her
parents, after visiting the British Islands, she had been spending a
month in Paris, and that she thought she should have died when she
left that city. "I hung out of the carriage, when we left the
hotel," said Miss Ruck, "I assure you I did. And mother did, too."

"Out of the other window, I hope," said I.

"Yes, one out of each window," she replied promptly. "Father had
hard work, I can tell you. We hadn't half finished; there were ever
so many places we wanted to go to."

"Your father insisted on coming away?"

"Yes; after we had been there about a month he said he had enough.
He's fearfully restless; he's very much out of health. Mother and I
said to him that if he was restless in Paris he needn't hope for
peace anywhere. We don't mean to leave him alone till he takes us
back." There was an air of keen resolution in Miss Ruck's pretty
face, of lucid apprehension of desirable ends, which made me, as she
pronounced these words, direct a glance of covert compassion toward
her poor recalcitrant father. He had walked away a little with his
wife, and I saw only his back and his stooping, patient-looking
shoulders, whose air of acute resignation was thrown into relief by
the voluminous tranquillity of Mrs. Ruck. "He will have to take us
back in September, any way," the young girl pursued; "he will have to
take us back to get some things we have ordered."